


both sides, now

by came0s



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Drunk!Link, Economic boom, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Frustration, Government, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kingdom of Hyrule, Pining, Post-Calamity Ganon, Rated M for Eventual Smut, Rebuilding, Slow Burn, Tenderness, Unrequited Love, link is in love w zelda but zelda is too much herself to realise it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:29:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28591044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/came0s/pseuds/came0s
Summary: the danger is over and the world is saved. the knight saved the princess, and now there's a country to rebuild.// after the calamity, or how it took zelda fifteen years to figure out what was really important.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by joni mitchell's 'both sides now'
> 
> i realise there are a million different 'post-calamity' fics out there, but i hope you all take a moment to read mine and enjoy!

i.

The danger is over and the world is saved.

Link spares one leftwards glance towards his princess.

 _His_ princess. That’s a funny thought. He thinks about how barely anyone remembers her except him, and even then his memories of her are shot through with great big holes. Zelda (she insists on him dropping the royal titles very shortly after their reunification) fills him in on some of these gaps during the ride back to Kakariko Village.

She is good at talking. He is not. They suit each other like that.

Although they are undoubtedly changed, she looks and acts the same, and just this fact alone helps stir his heart into some kind of feeling. It has been numb for so long.

Familiarity. Comfort. He remembers. He remembers flashes of sunlight on green fields. He remembers his child fingers pulling daisies out of the earth and the voice of someone like mother calling him home. He remembers being a different boy in a different place in a different time. For the first time since before he woke up, a voice that isn’t his own springs out of his mouth when he first calls her by her name.

Zelda does not seem shocked: this is her Link. Our Link blinks and looks down into a stream whose path they are steadily following. His appearance has not changed much, but he has.

ii.

It is protocol from here on out.

There is fanfare and celebration, there are street parties and grand welcomes. Zelda refuses a coronation. Instead of rebuilding the palace, they focus on rebuilding society:

"It is time," she says wisely, "to take our country out of the past and launch it into the future."

Link wonders how much more of the future he can take, although she makes it seem bright.

The next year is defined by the rebuilding of infrastructure. New roads stretch out between towns and stables; a few new housing settlements crop up a little south of the ghost of Castle Town; a hospital appears; bricks from the great corpses of ruined buildings are repurposed for schools, medical offices, factories. Hyrule begins to resemble more of a country than a wasteland.

Zelda shines with pride at the sight of it. She stands on a hill with her hands on her hips, overlooking the work. Her hair is short now, but it still catches the breeze pleasantly. Link studies a strand curled against her neck while she speaks.

"Doesn’t it look wonderful, Link?" She wipes sweat off her brow; her cheeks are smudged in dirt and her fingernails are black underneath. Her father would never have condoned it. "Aren’t we doing well?"

Workers carry bricks and rebuild. Their latest project: a post office.

She turns to look at him, beaming. He nods his approval after he lifts his eyes. They do not stand to chat long. There is work to be done.

iii.

The late spring festival is hosted in Hateno Village and Zelda attends gladly. Link also attends, merely because Zelda attends, and wherever Zelda goes, Link follows. The villagers poke fun. It is harmless and everyone laughs until the hours stretch on and the cherry wine begins to loosen lips. There is a comparison made between Link and a dog. Zelda loses her temper for the first time since the Before.

Her face is red and her voice is sharp and the strength of her stuns the entire village into silence.

There is a lengthy, awkward pause after she finishes, broken only by the tender touch of Link’s fingers against hers. Her head snaps around in shock at the contact. He blinks in surprise and withdraws.

Abruptly, Zelda stands up.

"I’m going to bed," she announces, visibly struggling to calm herself.

Dutifully, Link stands up with her.

" _Stay!_ " Zelda snaps loudly.

An unwise villager sniggers in the background as Link sits back down. Zelda sighs and her shoulders fall slack.

"Stay if you want to, Link," she rephrases, "you can do whatever you like."

He does not stand to follow her, only because he knows it would have embarrassed her if he did.

iv.

They talk often, but rarely about the Before. There is not much time for nights like these, spent by the fire reminiscing. Besides, Zelda finds it incredibly painful to remember.

"Sometimes I envy you," she murmurs to Link one evening, "I envy you not being able to remember anything. Maybe it’s easier that way. You miss less."

Link does not reply for a long time.

In fact, he takes so long in replying that Zelda assumes he will not reply at all. After ten minutes of silence, she says good night and stands up out of her armchair.

"I wish I knew who my parents were," Link suddenly says, very quietly. He stares into the fire. His fingers tighten and loosen around the fabric of his blanket intermittently. "I wish I knew what their faces looked like."

Zelda is stood, frozen. For once, she is speechless. Only one word escapes her mouth.

" _Link_ …"

He does not react.

Zelda wants to hold his hand. It is there, still curled into the blanket; he catches her looking at it and relaxes, but she does not come any closer and they do not have anything more to say to one another.

After she goes up to bed, Zelda knows she should have apologised.

v.

Many months later, they find themselves caught in a sandstorm a few miles northeast of Gerudo Town while searching for fairy fountains. They take cover in a caved alcove and stay put, fire flickering on a small pile of wood; shadows are thrown across Zelda’s face and for the first time Link realises just how much she has grown up.

The once tender roundness of her cheeks have diminished and made way for sharper edges. She has lost her puppy fat. She has become a woman. He wonders if she knows it, or if she is too preoccupied to notice the changes in herself whenever she stops before a mirror. Link thinks she must not have had the chance; after all, she is much too busy rebuilding a kingdom for such egotistical affairs.

Zelda glances to her right and catches Link watching her. Something stirs in her belly. Half a smile curves her mouth.

"What is it?" She asks, her voice quiet. The air is still, and so are they. "What are you looking at?"

Link searches her face. He is not ashamed. She feels almost naked under his watch. It is a feeling she isn’t sure she is entirely uncomfortable with.

"You’ve grown up," he says after a long pause.

Clearly, Zelda did not anticipate this answer.

Her eyebrows knit together into a little frown. A beat. Then, she replies.

"So have you, Link," her eyes on him, "haven’t you noticed?"

He has not.

While Zelda may certainly be busy rebuilding this country, Link is busy ensuring her dream comes to fruition. There is no time to stop to gaze down into lakes, to notice in the water’s surface how changed his reflection is; the only time he ever notices his increased height is when he bangs the top of his head on a stable door frame. He does not notice how young women giggle when they see him, and he certainly does not notice them blush when he glances back at them indifferently.

Zelda is studying Link the entire time he contemplates. He has grown handsome. She has grown beautiful. Five years have passed since the Calamity. She wonders whether her father would have married her off by now or not. She wonders whether it would have been Link she’d have been married off to. She asks herself whether she would have been against that proposal.

She cannot answer. Those times are over. Marriage is a distant concept, if a concept at all. Zelda cannot envisage planning for such things while the country is still in this state of disrepair. _Hyrule comes first_ , she determines, and firmly looks away from Link and back into the fire.

Meanwhile, the sand continues to whirl around outside in frantic gusts of wind.

Hyrule comes first.

vi.

Zelda is with Purah at the Ancient Tech Lab north of Hateno Village, and Link is sat on a stool watching them talk. He holds in his calloused hands a cup of steaming green tea, and has neglected to brush away fruit cake crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

They are taking a short break from travelling between cities, and he is grateful for it. The horse needs to be shod, and that is something only a skilled stablehand can perform. He could use the rest. Riding for so many days on end is peaceful, but it takes its toll… even on him.

The princess appreciates the pause, too, he thinks; Link notices how Zelda lights up around Purah, a figure from her past with whom she can fully reminisce. Sometimes Link feels guilty for not being able to indulge her like this, but his memories have still not all returned. Purah suspects that perhaps they never fully will.

He was touched at how upset Zelda was for him upon receiving this piece of news, but Link has already sworn to make new memories for himself, and he would happily continue to make them so long as Zelda was by his side.

Odd how this Hyrule feels more like home to him than the one he was born into.

vii.

The few houses south of Castle Town that we previously mentioned quickly expand into a city which becomes known as New Castle Town. The palace beyond remains in ruins; Zelda cannot justify wasting so much time, money and effort on rebuilding such a superfluous building. Instead, it becomes a museum and a memorial to those lives lost during the 100 Years’ Calamity. New Castle Town begins to host an annual party for the end of the war in honour of their heroes, and today marks the eighth of those celebrations.

It all begins with a moment of silence, then continues with the usual hurrah and fanfare of any good Hylian party. Zora, Gorons, Hylians, Rito and Gerudo alike dance and drink and exchange stories. There are market stalls set up in the town square by travelling salesmen. The local inn makes enough profit to cover costs for the entire year.

Link and Zelda naturally are an essential part of this. There are parades and speeches made in their honour, although neither of them feel very comfortable with this level of jubilation. After all, this is the day that marks the end of the most traumatic event of their lives, but they indulge the people with their presence.

Zelda now has a small house here in New Castle Town and soon retires to it once she feels she can safely get away without being noticed. The blackened towers of her once-home are visible from her bedroom window, and she contemplates it. She remembers flickering red and black malice creeping around the turrets; she remembers the great heaving jaws of the beast widening before her; she remembers—-

There is a small commotion below her window, and Zelda looks down to find Link struggling to pick up a few pieces of kindling he had dropped from the great wood pile in his arms.

"Link," she whisper-shouts, "what are you doing?"

He looks up with wide blinking eyes and she realises he has indulged himself a little too much in whatever kind of beer was being pushed into his hands earlier in the evening.

"I’m bringing you some wood," he replies.

"Why on earth would you do that?" She smiles despite herself, and folds her arms as she leans over the window sill. It’s nearly midnight.

"There’s a chill tonight, and I thought you might be cold."

A pause. He hesitates.

"Are you alright, Zelda?" He asks finally.

Link’s face is wide and open and shines up at her like a full moon. His eyebrows are knitted together in concern. Zelda searches his face from above and then slowly leans away with a deep sigh.

"No," she replies truthfully.

He walks closer and puts the wood down on her porch before finally looking back up at her.

"Me neither," Link says.

Zelda lifts her gaze back up to the great husk of Hyrule Castle in the distance.

There is no more malice. No more Calamity. She has kept herself very busy, and so far it has paid off; the people are happy, healthy, and (mostly) free of danger. Zelda thinks she is selfish for not being fully content, but it comes as a comfort to know that Link is not, either.

"Anniversaries are always difficult," she finally says, wisely, "tomorrow we will be alright, again."

Link, who had expected something else, slowly nods. His fingers flex uselessly at his sides, and after a short silence passes, he realises he is expected to leave, now.

"Well, good night, then," he calls, tearing his eyes away from her face at the window.

"Good night, Link," Zelda replies and leans away, shutting the window behind her and leaving him alone with his burgeoning thoughts.

Link stays standing there for a few moments. He wants to do something crazy — throw a pebble at her window, knock at the door, demand some more attention. He wants something. He isn’t sure what. It’s driving him mad, but not mad enough to forget himself. He shakes his head and returns to the inn.

Zelda watches him walk away from behind the pane of glass and wonders what would have happened had she told him to come upstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

viii.

Link turns thirty on the summer solstice and they celebrate it in Tarrey Town with a handful of close friends. Politics have been difficult to navigate recently; as much as Zelda has helped Hyrule, there are still those who have remained dissatisfied with some parts of the rebuilding process. After one century of living without a royal family, it is no surprise that many have come to resent the sudden reinstatement of a political system now considered archaic. 

The solution is simple in theory but difficult in practice. Local governments have been successfully formed, and now Zelda is overseeing a general election which will decide the identity of the next prime minister of Hyrule, as voted for by the people rather than decided by birth. Democracy makes for a positive change, although organising it has been exhausting.

“What do you think, Princess?” Rhondson asks, showing her the room in the hall of the inn decorated especially for Link’s surprise party. 

There are colourful streamers hanging from the ceiling, pretty decorations pinned to the walls, and jars of sunset fireflies on the window sills. The table is covered with all sorts of food and the pièce de resistance —a huge fruit cake —- sits majestically in the very centre. 

“He’ll love it,” Zelda replies, a huge smile on her face as she takes it all in. “Thank you so much for doing all of this."

“It was all Hudson, really,” she snorts, folding her arms. “I’m not one for decorating houses.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to thank him, then.”

Link is a popular figure in Hyrule and is always greeted with a positive reception, but considering the role he played in the construction of Tarrey Town, he is always made to feel especially welcome when he and Zelda come to visit. 

He returns with Hudson twenty minutes later and nearly jumps out of his skin when he walks into the inn, only to be assaulted by a loud shout of _surprise!_ and the beaming faces of Zelda and the rest of the Tarrey Town residents. His shock is replaced very quickly by joy (mostly at the sight of the feast) and the party quickly settles into full swing. 

They eat, they drink, they tell anecdotal stories about the birthday boy; they sing and they dance and Zelda can’t wipe the smile from her face. She hasn’t seen Link look this happy in months. The stress of setting up a democracy has taken its toll on him too, and she finds his boyish delight in this party truly lovely to see.

She waits until the party is over to give Link his birthday present, but by that time comes around, it has gone midnight and he is tired from overeating and not to mention a little drunk from the wine that had been poured seemingly continuously all night. 

They are alone upstairs and standing outside their respective bedroom doors when he turns to face her.

“Good night, then, and thank you for the party,” Link says, scratching the back of his neck. “I really enjoyed it.”

“You’re welcome," Zelda murmurs, not wanting to make too much noise so late at night. “You deserve it after all your hard work recently. I’m very grateful.”

He smiles. It is a small one, but genuine. His hand comes to rest on his bedroom door handle when she speaks again. 

“Wait a moment, I have a gift for you,” she says, opening her bedroom door and disappearing inside. “Come in, it’ll only take a minute.”

Link hesitates, but slowly follows, his boots tapping gently on the creaking floorboards. “You shouldn’t have, the party was more than enough.”

She has her back to him, body bent over her rucksack while she rummages for something inside. His comments are ignored. 

“Wait a second.”

Zelda straightens, turns, and walks towards him with her hand extended, a little package wrapped in brown paper and a string sitting on her palm. She is wearing a small smile. Link takes it gingerly, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

_“_ I hope you like it," she murmurs, watching his calloused fingers carefully unwrap it.

It is a rather large and very smooth pebble. Link frowns in confusion, but after turning it over upon Zelda’s command, soon lets out an amused laugh. There is a man painted on it, wearing a blue tunic much like his own, holding a glowing sword with a purple hilt. He turns it over in his palm and finds a blonde woman wearing a white dress on the other side.

“It’s silly,” Zelda says while shaking her head bashfully. 

“It’s perfect,” Link corrects her, delight audible in his voice. She sighs in relief, her heart swelling with joy. “Where did you find the time to paint this?”

He looks up from the stone into her eyes. Something inside her shifts. 

“Best to leave some mysteries alone, “Zelda replies vaguely. 

Link’s smile does not disappear. He steps towards her, and leans down. “Thank you.”

Before Zelda knows it, his lips are on her cheek, tender and sweet and lingering for a touch too long. She does not realise she had been holding her breath until he gently pulls away. 

They are standing too close. The room suddenly feels too dimly lit. Her heart races. The weight of his gaze on her feels almost unbearable; she notices when his eyes drop to her parted lips. 

Link is leaning in. His breath smells faintly of wine. They are about to kiss.

Zelda panics and turns her head. 

“Not like this,” she whispers. 

He does not move for a moment. His eyes are closed. Slowly, Link pulls away again. 

“Not like this,” he repeats, voice empty of its previous joy. Even he is not quite sure what he means by this. 

"I’m sorry,” Zelda apologises quickly, her mouth as dry as the Gerudo Desert.

“What for?” Link asks, opening his eyes. There is an edge to his voice that she has never heard before. It scares her.

“For ruining the moment,” she quietly replies, her hands flexing awkwardly at her sides. 

He presses his lips thinly. Link does not want to push her, but he is frustrated. The wine does not help his attitude.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, princess," he replies, using a title that she has not heard him say in years. “I was out of line. My apologies.”

He turns around, struggling to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth. He is squeezing the pebble in his hand so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

“Don’t call me that,” Zelda warns him, voice low. 

There is an argument brewing. The things that have gone on undiscussed for the past twelve years since the Calamity are suddenly simmering around the room; giant elephants stomp about and disturb their carefully constructed peace. 

“Sorry," Link says without meaning it. “Good night, Zelda.”

He leaves abruptly but does not slam the door, despite wanting to. 

Back in his own bedroom, his mind and heart races painfully. How did such a perfect night turn so sour? Link flops onto his bed, draping his arm over his eyes and letting out a deep, deep sigh while Zelda’s voice echoes in his head.

_Not like this. Not like this. Not like this._

He wonders what it _should_ be like, if not like that… If ever.

He lifts his arm again and opens his palm, gazing at the two figures painted on either side of the pebble. They have always been two sides of the same coin; it was in their blood, and who is he to deny that? Perhaps he was mistaken in thinking that she sees him as anything more than a tool of destiny. Perhaps he read her signals all wrong. Perhaps they are not meant to be anything more than they are now. Perhaps he should save his heart for someone else. Perhaps not. Perhaps he should put this all to bed. 

Link’s finger traces the smooth stone, following the lines of Zelda’s dress. 

_Not like this. Not like this. Not like this._

ix.

The next morning is awkward. 

Link has a headache from having overindulged the night before and feels mortified after his late night exchange with Zelda. They are reunited at the breakfast table but he has no chance to speak to her privately with all their friends around. Everyone notices the atmosphere. No one mentions it.

They do not stay in Tarrey Town any longer. They have a schedule to stick to: Robbie is expecting them by nightfall at the Ancient Tech Lab. Link packs up their things and they leave on horseback, riding in total silence until the town is a mere speck in the distance behind them.

“I’m very sorry for last night,” Link finally says. “I didn’t mean to act so …”

Zelda sighs while he struggles for words. “I’m sorry, too.”

He is relieved, turning to look at her. Their eyes meet. He opens his mouth to speak, but she does not give him the chance.

“Let’s forget it ever happened,” she murmurs while she gently steers her horse onwards.

That is not what Link wants, but there is work to be done, and so the incident gets buried. Life goes on. The election keeps them busy. At the next party they attend, Link politely declines the glass of wine he is offered. Zelda takes note.

x.

The election has an excellent turn out and a new prime minister is successfully voted in. Zelda helps with the initial organisation of the new government, but soon her role is rendered redundant. There is no need for a royal family. She is just a figurehead, now; a constitutional monarch with little authoritative power. She has become useless. Unnecessary. Unneeded.

Impa tells her that the lack of pressure is a good thing. Purah tells her that she deserves a break. Zelda tells them that a princess’ work is never done.

At first, she finds it difficult to know what to do with herself. Link is there, of course; they take trips, they visit friends, they help locals, they do what they can. There is a different kind of routine that develops from this freedom, as strange as it feels at times. However, the best thing to come out of this is that she has more time than ever before to devote to her research.

She is at the northernmost end of the Tanagar Canyon studying the ruins of the Forgotten Temple. Link is sat on the stump of crumbled pillar, sharpening his broadsword. The sunlight glints off the metal and flickers in Zelda’s face as she crouches by a wall, studying its ancient murals. 

“Link," she says irritably, glancing around at him.

He looks up, spots the strip of light on her cheek, and promptly stops. 

Back to work, but Zelda’s focus is broken. She straightens again after another couple of minutes, pushing herself up into a standing position. Her stomach is rumbling and she is concerned that she forgot to pack herself any lunch. 

As if reading her mind, Link procures two mushroom rice balls from his bag. 

“What would I do without you?” Zelda asks him with a sigh, their fingers brushing as she takes one gratefully. 

He smiles but it does not reach his eyes. While she eats, he gazes up at the great face of the Forgotten Temple, ancient and crumbled and worn by the sun. His thoughts drift. One day, he too will be old and weary. That day is coming sooner than they all think, and there are things that need to happen before then.

He watches a small stream of sand slip from the top of a semi-collapsed pillar in the wind. He looks back at Zelda as she pours over the Sheikah Slate, sunlight caught in her golden hair, mouth full of rice.

He doesn’t have much more time. 

xi. 

In the thirteen years since the end of the war, neither Zelda nor Link ever enjoyed more than one day off at a time. However, now that their duties have been so diminished, Prince Sidon finally manages to convince them to stay for three nights in Zora’s Domain for a well-deserved break.

It is midsummer and the lakes are perfect for swimming; they feast on salt-grilled fish and Link snoozes peacefully in the shade while Zelda reads. It is the most peaceful she has felt since the Before. 

She wonders when thinking about her old life stopped feeling quite so painful. She has realised that it’s true: time _does_ heal all wounds, although Zelda decides that while the gaping cut across her chest has certainly stopped bleeding, it has not fully disappeared. She believes it never will. Occasionally, the old scar aches, although it’s nothing she can’t manage without a little distraction or meditation. After all, there is too much good in the world to dwell on the sadness of the past, and taking a look at Link always reminds her of that. 

Zelda turns her head to the side and watches him as he naps, his bare chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. He isn’t the boy he was before the Calamity struck. His skin is scattered in old scars; and not to mention he has aged over a decade since then. He’s handsome. It’s not the first time she’s noticed it. 

Her thoughts drift back to his thirtieth birthday and their almost kiss. 

He had been drunk and it had gone terribly wrong. He has never attempted to kiss her again, and she doubts he’d ever try after her reaction.

She is scared of change. She is scared of being selfish. Even this holiday feels a little wrong after she swore to devote so much of her life to the kingdom. She owes Hyrule. She also owes Link for helping her save it.

Zelda closes her book and sighs, gazing up at the fragments of blue sky shining down between gaps in the tree canopy above her. If anyone truly deserves happiness, it’s him. Perhaps now that their duties are so reduced, she can afford to let him go and seek it. He should get a happy ending. Even if it doesn’t involve her. 

xii.

“I think you should retire, Link.”

They have spent the past few days crossing over the Lanayru Wetlands and have finally stopped in the Wetland Stable just east of Hyrule Field. Link is tired. His socks are wet from trekking through marsh and his bones are full of cold. Needless to say, this statement catches him completely by surprise.

“Pardon?” He asks, blinking. He is sat on the end of the bed, peeling off his wet overcoat. A fire crackles in the hearth nearby. 

“You’re thirty, now,” Zelda continues, sitting down slowly next to him. “It’s about time you retired, found someone to settle down with, and started a family. You can’t keep following me about forever.”

Link slowly puts his hands on his lap, head spinning at this sudden change of topic. They had been discussing purchasing Epona a new saddle only hours ago. 

“It’s just that I don’t want you to waste your life serving the kingdom,” Zelda continues with a sigh, nervously twisting the fabric of her trousers around her hands. “You deserve happiness, and I don’t think helping me with my research forever is going to give you that.”

He does not need to think long upon his reply.

“I’m happy so long as I’m with you,” Link murmurs simply, . 

“Don’t you have more ambitious plans for your life, Link?” Zelda asks. “Don’t you want more… than this?”

She searches his face intently. Her heart is racing. She is very acutely aware that the answer to these questions may not please her. That is why it took her this many days since their holiday in Zora’s Domain to summon up the courage to voice them. 

Meanwhile, Link considers his answer carefully. 

“Yes,” he replies truthfully, leaning back in his seat a little bit, gazing at her with a steady sort of confidence.

Zelda feels her heart crack harder than she ever anticipated it would. A moment that feels like a lifetime passes as she slowly rises to her feet. “Then I grant you freedom to choose your future.”

“Then I choose one with you,” he interrupts, voice a touch breathless.

She looks at him over her shoulder and her heart might has well have stopped for a moment. Zelda smiles despite everything as she turns to fully face him. “Are you sure?”

Link takes her in: eyes sparkling with hopeful joy. Cheeks slightly flushed. He stands and takes her hands in both of his, heart cracking into two. Leaving her is not a choice — he’d rather die than stop being a prisoner to fate, chained by his own devotion, destined for something that was chosen for him the day he was born.

“More than anything, Zelda.”

She smiles brightly, squeezes his hands, drops them. “Let’s go to bed, then. Busy day, tomorrow.”

He feels his arms hang heavy as she leaves for her own bedroom, a lump like a stone in his throat that he cannot swallow. Link’s fingers tremble as he reaches into his pocket, stroking the stone she gave him nearly a year ago. 

_Not like this. Not like this. Not like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol... even scientist princesses can be dumb when it comes to their feelings

**Author's Note:**

> originally this was going to be a very long one shot, but i decided to split it into chapters. so far i have 3 outlined but there could be more, so we will see! thanks for reading :)


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